Notorious
by Grazia D
Summary: The Seven find themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place when the bank is robbed and one of them is nearly killed by someone familiar to Vin and Ezra. Josephine also returns to Four Corners
1. Chapter 1

Chris Larabee took a slow drag from his cheroot cigar as he watched Ezra Standish exit the saloon for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes. The gambler shuffled his hat between his left and right hand as his emerald eyes scanned the street. His auburn hair was still slightly damp from his bath and slicked neatly against his scalp. His attire was new and tailored to fit perfectly. Light winked off the gold watch chain dangling from the silk double breasted vest. The weeks' worth of growth was gone from Ezra's chin. The gambler looked eager, yet nervous, and the reason the gambler was so anxious brought a small smile to Chris' lips.

Ezra noticed Chris' stare and sent an aggravated look his way before disappearing back inside the saloon.

"Ezra's lookin' awfully nervous." Vin Tanner drawled from the hotel's doorway, his lithe body leaning against the frame. "What time's the stage come in?"

"One" Chris answered.

"Word is he's been pacing around the saloon since eight this morning." Vin chuckled. "Turned down two poker games and hasn't had a drop of liquor since last night." Chris raised an eyebrow slightly.

"That so?"

"Mmm, hmm." Vin settled down next to Chris and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "Of course, that can't last for long."

"I don't think anyone's expecting it to."

Ezra pushed himself out of the chair and wandered toward the door once again before stopping himself. He stole a glance at his pocket watch after scanning the known faces inside the saloon. It was five after one. The stage was late. Not that he was expecting it to be one time. They rarely were.

But Josephine was on that stage and he could hardly grab a few hours of sleep last night at the anticipation to see her again. And the extra five minutes were nearly unbearable.

"You're wound up tighter than a cheap watch, Ezra." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder as the owner of the familiar voice walked up behind him. "Nervous?"

"Not at all, Mr. Wilmington." Ezra answered, his voice louder than necessary. "Why would I be?" Buck tossed him a knowing smile.

The sound of approaching hoof beats send Ezra's heart racing. He shook Buck's hand off his shoulder and stepped back out into the daylight, placing his hat atop his head before straightening the black frock coat he wore. He attempted to look relaxed and leaned his body against a support post as the stage approached. He noticed the amused grins from Vin and Chris as they sat across the street and scowled. He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and tilted his chin up. The pleased grins widened and Ezra forced his eyes away from the men across from him.

The horses came to a halt in front of the stage company. The driver jumped down and pulled open the carriage door, a welcoming voice floating along the breeze. The sound of her voice almost caused Ezra to break into a sprint as he approached the stage. His restlessness turned into excitement when he watched her step down from the stage, with help from the guiding hand of the overly friendly driver. Ezra's jaw set when the bearded man's hand lingered on Josephine's waist just a little too long and he quickened his stride, reaching Josephine's side just as she was saying her thanks.

Her sapphire eyes widened when they focused on him, a dazzling, dimpled smile spreading across her face.

"Ezra!" she cried out, throwing her arms around his neck as she pulled him close for a hug. Ezra wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close, the subtle scent of her perfume filling his nose. She pressed her body against his, brushing her thigh slightly against him, giggling softly so only he could hear. "I missed you." she said gently before pulling away from him.

"I missed you as well, my dear." Ezra said as he allowed his eyes to wander over Josephine's body. The cerulean colored princess-line dress fit smoothly over her body from her shoulders to her hips, accenting her curves yet still modest enough for day wear. Her dark hair was pulled up at the sides and hung in tight ringlets that brushed her shoulders. She looked surprisingly put together after the half-day ride from the train station.

"Miss Devereaux." The sound of Buck's voice startled Ezra momentarily, ignorant of the man's presence until he pushed past, an eager smile on his face and his hat pressed against his chest. "Welcome back to Four Corners. And if I may say, you are looking exceptionally beautiful today."

"Mr. Wilmington," she offered him a gloved hand, which he brought to his lips. "it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, believe me, the pleasure is all mine." He could feel Ezra's heated stare and made a show of ignoring it. The thought of Erza all riled up brought him immense joy.

"Mr. Wilmington, I'm sure you have some place to be." Ezra hissed.

"Not really, Ezra." Buck replied, his eyes never leaving Josephine. Calming himself with a sharp intake of air, Ezra regained his composure, not wanting to give Buck the satisfaction of knowing just how upset he actually was.

"Miss Devereaux, need any help with your bags?" The stagecoach driver asked eagerly, casting wary glances at Buck and Ezra.

"No." Ezra retorted, yanking the small bag from the burly man's grasp.

"Thank you, though." Josephine added. The driver tipped his hat, the upset and annoyance clear before rushing into the stage office.

Ezra grabbed Josephine's remaining two bags before Buck had a chance to, tucking the smallest, and the lightest, underneath his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Josephine, have you eaten yet?" Buck asked, stepping in front of Ezra and dipping his head close to Josephine. "Because that restaurant right over there serves the best lunch."

"Well…"

"C'mon." Buck offered his arm, which Josephine gingerly took. "Ezra's got your bags, right, Ezra?" This time, there was no hiding the anger and frustration the gambler felt.

"Thank you, darling." Josephine's eyes brightened with her smile and she cupped Ezra's cheek tenderly, offering him a tiny pout before Buck led her down the street.

Heaving a deep sigh, Ezra situated Josephine's bags so they were easier to carry and made his way begrudgingly toward the hotel.

"Need a hand, Ezra?" Vin called out, the smirk even more prominent on his face.

"No, thank you, Mr. Tanner." Ezra hissed through clenched teeth before disappearing into the hotel. Vin chuckled and shook his head. "I can hear you!" Ezra's Southern drawl echoed out into the street, his frustration quite apparent.

"Excellent hearing our friend has." Chris bemused, taking the last drag from the cigar.

"Ah, poor Ezra." Vin sighed, leaning back into the seat.

"Well, it's his own fault. If he wouldn't let Buck see how much he upsets him, Buck wouldn't act the way he does around Josephine." Chris said.

"Well, at least it's entertainment for the rest of us." Vin surmised as he pulled himself to his feet. "Hungry?" Chris looked up thoughtfully at the former bounty hunter, recognizing the playful glint in his eyes. Buck would certainly be pouring on the charm and there was no doubt Vin wanted to be there to watch every second. Chris slapped the side of his leg and stood.

"I suppose I could eat." Chris straightened the hat on his head before following his friend across the dusty thoroughfare. "Poor Ezra."


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Ezra made it to the restaurant, the rest of the Seven had already been seated, surrounding Josephine, who held her place at the center of the table and of attention. Seated to her left was J.D., his dark eyes wide and focused solely on Josephine; to her right was Buck, who held her hand in his and leaned in much too close for Ezra's liking.

His eyes shifted to Vin, who sat where he was most comfortable, at the fringe of the group. Ezra knew most of the attention Buck lavished on Josephine was to get under his skin—he knew that, although it didn't stop the jealously he still felt—but it was Vin who worried him. Ezra knew vaguely of his past with Josephine, and he remembered the way Vin looked at Josephine when he thought no one was looking. It was the same way he was looking at her now.

"Ezra!" Her voice caught his attention, pulled his thoughts away from Vin and Buck. She had been the first to notice him approach. When she called out Ezra's name, Vin's gaze shifted slightly to the gambler as he approached. Their eyes locked. If Vin had any indication what was running through Ezra's head, or if he felt even the slightest bit guilty, he didn't let on.

Ezra circled the table as Buck drew Josephine's attention again, sharing a story from his time as a lawman back east, a tale which Josephine soaked up with interest. He tapped J.D. on the shoulder. When the young man looked up, surprised as if he hadn't even noticed him walk through the restaurant door, Ezra made a jerking motion with his thumb.

"Move, kid." Creases on his forehead appeared as J.D. frowned.

"But…"

"Move." No polite Southern inflection, no civil smile. Ezra's voice was so stern his accent had nearly all but disappeared. He was answered with a sharp intake of air followed closely by release before J.D. snatched his hat from his knee and abruptly stood. He placed the hat square on his head, gave Ezra a look of unhappiness before grabbing a chair from another table and setting up in the best open space he could find; right in between Chris and Vin. Ezra took camp where J.D. once sat, sending seething glances Buck's way. Buck caught the look once and paused just long enough to give Ezra a toothy grin. Josephine sensed the discomfort and turned her head quickly, just long enough to give him coy smile. Her left hand found his knee and gave it a light squeeze. Her touch caused Ezra to calm considerably.

"Will you be singing any while you're here, Miss Josephine?" J.D. asked, interrupting Buck's tale of his brush with notorious outlaw John Wesley Hardin just outside of Abilene and how Hardin shot a man through the wall of his hotel room for snoring too loudly. The question seemed to take Josephine by surprise, if only briefly.

"Well, I have booked several shows at Digger Dave's. I even wrote some new material on the way out here."

"Well, I can't wait to see it!" J.D.'s said a bit too loudly. He was rewarded with the sweet smile reserved for the young.

"I'm happy to have you as such a fan, Mr. Dunne."

"You have a fan in all of us, Josephine." Buck crooned, drawing her awareness back to him.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Wilmington." She replied with a pat of her curls.

"Don't you think you should take a little rest?" Ezra interjected. Josephine turned to him, a little hint of underlying annoyance reflecting on her face. The annoyance was brief and she gave a small nod.

"You're right. It has been a long journey. And I am exhausted. I hope you gentlemen don't mind if I take my leave?" Josephine asked as she stood. The seven men followed suit: J.D. stood so fast the chair tipped at a dangerous level backward, threatened to fall, and then righted itself on all fours.

"Not at all." Buck answered with a nod of his head. Josephine said her goodbyes to each man—Ezra watched closely when she reached Vin and was satisfied to see she didn't linger. He knew it was ridiculous to feel so jealous. It was he with whom he was in love. It was he for whom she returned. Acting like an adolescent schoolboy would do no one any favors.

Ezra offered her his arm, which she gladly accepted, and led her out of the restaurant, realizing neither had a chance to eat any food. A fact his stomach soon reminded him.

"I just noticed you hadn't had a chance to eat." Ezra said, suddenly feeling foolish, knowing he rushed her out of there. "If you're hungry, we can go back."

"No." Josephine placed her free hand on his arm and rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm fine. The stage driver shared his breakfast with me."

They walked together in silence the rest of the way to the Gem, her head resting on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his. Her room was the last on the right. Once there, he paused, reached into his pocket and produced the key the manager had given to him the day before when he rented the room.

"This is your room." He held out the key, which she took with apprehension.

"My own room?" she asked, an eyebrow cocked. Ezra chuckled, a reaction he knew was not the most appropriate, nor would it be the one she expected.

"Darlin', this town expects some modesty."

"Well, that doesn't sound very fun."

"I didn't want to be too forward." Ezra admitted. Josephine turned the key over in her hand.

"Well…you are always the gentleman." Josephine unlocked the door to her room and pushed it open wide. Her suitcases were still piled neatly in the corner where Ezra had laid them, light from the midday sun blanketed the hardwood floor, and the crisp smell of early fall filled the room. "And being the gentleman you are," Josephine turned back to him and looped an arm around his neck, "how would you like to help me unpack?" She pulled him into the freshly turned down room. Ezra gladly allowed himself to be led and kicked the door shut behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cortez, Colorado**

The sound of a key turning a lock tugged him from his sleep. He propped himself on an elbow as the door to the jailhouse opened. Weathered wood, swollen with the high humidity, moaned on its hinges. The deputy, young, fit and just a bit too full of himself, took off his hat and clipped the keys to his belt as he entered. It was early morning yet the light blue shirt the sheriff wore had already darkened around the neck and beneath the arms.

He lay back down on the mattress, uninterested and still a bit fuzzy in the head. Another hour or so of sleep was all he would need. It shouldn't be a problem. It's not like he was going anywhere for the time being.

He listened as the deputy, Hill he thought his name was, made his early morning rounds, checking each window for signs of weakness or tampering, making sure the gun racks still held the two Winchester rifles, one coach gun and three Smith and Wesson revolvers—if he would have counted, the deputy still would have found three hundred rounds for the revolvers, two hundred rounds for each of the rifles and a hundred and fifty rounds for the coach gun, information the man on the mattress came by the first night in jail when the sheriff, a man who held such a strong resemblance to the deputy he was certain they were related, did his weekly inventory. The deputy ended his rounds at the cell door, giving the bars a yank. The iron refused to budge.

"You hungry?" the deputy, Hill? Or maybe Haynes, asked. The man in the cell opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to allow him to get a good view of the deputy.

"No." he answered before shutting his eyes once more. The deputy fell silent but didn't budge. The man could feel the weight of the deputy's gaze.

"I heard you killed Johnny Chalene in El Paso. Shot him 'fore his gun ever cleared his holster." The man in the cell sighed but kept his eyes closed. "Johnny Chalene was fast. I saw him fight once couplea years ago in Dodge City." The deputy continued. "He drew so fast his hand was just a blur. Hit Kid Hansen three times before the Kid could even think about drawing his gun."

"Johnny Chelene didn't kill Kid Hansen in Dodge City." The man in the cell mumbled, visibly irritated. "It was in Kansas City, Missouri. Dodge barely had a rail line then."

"Close enough." The deputy muttered. Another pause. "You don't look like what I expected." The man in the cell heaved another frustrated sigh. The kid wasn't going to give it a rest, he decided, and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up. He sized the deputy up before allowing his cold blue eyes to meet the lawman's.

"What did you expect?" he asked, his voice measured and wrapped in a smooth Southern inflection. One corner of the deputy's mouth rose in a half smile.

"Someone different. Someone who looks like they could have killed Johnny Chelene and "Red Jack" Allby." The man in the cell stood. It took two steps to reach the cell bars. The cocky smile on the deputy's face faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. The man in the cell was tall, standing two inches over six feet and nearly half a foot over the deputy.

"I'm sorry if I disappoint." The deputy smirked, but the man in the cell noticed the air around him had changed from one of arrogance to one of nervousness.

"Federal marshals will be here this afternoon." The deputy announced, stepping away from the cell. The keys clinked softly against his leg. The man in the cell followed the deputy with his eye, well aware of the feeling of metal pressed against his forearm. It felt cool against his skin despite the fact it had been resting there since the sheriff, supported by five other men, took him into custody three days ago. He hadn't been sure if he would have been able to use it but the deputy proved him wrong. The sheriff had been old enough and wise enough to keep his distance; lawmen who did were the ones who lived long enough to reach the age the sheriff had. The deputy, however, was still young and naïve. The man in the cell may have been the first real outlaw the deputy had encountered. He might have been able to make the mistake of coming within arm's reach of the cell with others. He wouldn't be able to with the man in the cell.

"I eagerly await their arrival." The man in the cell snipped.

The deputy turned at the sound of his voice. "I read you were single handedly responsible for TransAmerican Railroad's failure to beat the Union in the race west. Because of you Jonah Kensington went bankrupt. I heard he hung himself a year after Promontory Point." The man in the cell leaned casually against the bars.

"I don't feel much remorse for Jonah Kensington."

"I don't suppose you would." The man in the cell smiled for the first time in three days.

"You know, I wasn't aware I had such a fan here in Cortez."

"Not a fan. I just like to know what I'm up against."

"Well, you've done your homework. I imagine you've heard how effortlessly I can escape most any jail cell, yes?" The deputy shrugged.

"You can't get out of here. Th'Sheriff keeps this place in tip top shape. Breaking out is just about impossible." The man in the cell scanned the building and nodded.

"That is true, if it were just me. The dime novels and "eyewitnesses" seem to fail the public by not properly re-telling the story as factually as possible. It does such a disservice to the community when they happen upon someone like me." The deputy's eyes narrowed. The air of arrogance was gone completely. He was confused and just on the cusp of panic.

"What are you talking about?"

As if on cue, the door to the jail opened, not forcefully or dramatically as it may be retold in a dime novel, but casually, as if the person entering had every right to be there. Maybe coming in to ask a question or see in Deputy Hill or Haynes would like to grab breakfast. The deputy spun on his heel to face the visitor, reaching for his gun when he recognized the faces and deciding wisely against it when he noticed three barrels already pointing straight at him.

"I get by with a little help from my friends, is what I'm talking about. A man would be nothing without good friends to help him out in his time of need. So how about you do us all a favour and come unlock this cell." The deputy glanced from one face to the other, the stains of sweat on his shirt growing larger by the second.

"I do that and you'll kill me. Like I said, I like to know what I'm up against and you don't have a very good track record of leaving people alive."

"You don't come over here and unlock this cell, one of those three men will kill you and just let me out anyway. I'm trying to do things civilly here. Now just be a good boy and let me out. There's no need to be a hero." Tension mounted as seconds passed. The man in the cell hadn't left his relaxed pose, but had slowly allowed the object tucked in the sleeve of his shirt to slide down his forearm. He opened his hand wide as the metal slipped from the fabric, timing his grasp just right so as to catch the knife by the handle before it slid completely to the floor. The sheriff might have kept his jail in tip top shape, but he was lacking when it came to thoroughly searching his prisoners.

The deputy finally made up his mind. His shoulders sagged as he admitted defeat. He grabbed the keys from his belt and walked slowly to the cell, his eyes never completely leaving the trio by the door. The lock released with a satisfying thud and the deputy pushed open the cell door. The man in the cell straightened and took two steps outside of the confines, turning to the deputy and giving him a pat on the cheek.

"Now that's a good boy." He whispered as he plunged the knife deep into the belly of the deputy with his other hand. The deputy spasmed and groaned, reaching aimlessly for the gun he wore on his hip. The man pushed the knife in deeper and pulled up, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the deputy. The deputy coughed twice; spittle mixed with blood settled on his bottom lip. With his free hand, the man pushed the deputy away from him and allowed him to crumple to the ground, the knife still planted firmly in his abdomen.

"You boys are early." The man said as he collected his gun and hat from a hook behind the sheriff's desk.

"We got here sooner than we thought." One outlaw retorted as he spun his pistol on his finger and holstered.

"I'm not complaining." The man quipped as he slung his belt around his hips. Cage Devereaux smiled for the second time that morning as he placed his hat atop his head. "After all, time is money."


	4. Chapter 4

Josephine brushed the front of her dress as she exited the hotel. The sun was resting just above the top of the livery across the street, blinding her temporarily before she raised a hand to shield her from the light. Through narrow eyes, she scanned the store fronts across the street. Not one was what she was looking for.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" The sound of Vin's voice startled her; she hadn't noticed him sitting by the front door. He peered up at her from beneath his hat.

"You scared me."

"Sorry about that." Josephine gave him an aggravated look before glancing back out toward the street.

"Am I too forward in believing this town has a newspaper?" she asked, turning her head back to Vin. He smiled up at her as he stood, unfolding his body slowly from the chair on which he had been perched.

"It's just down the road a bit." He said, pointing off toward the right. "Why?"

Josephine smoothed the front of her dress once again before waving the piece of paper she had held in her right hand in the air. "This." She said plainly.

"What is it?"

"It's an ad." Josephine answered proudly. "I want it run during my run at Digger Dave's."

"Well the newspaper office is right down there, right next to the bathhouse, and there's a good bet the lady who runs it will be there readying things for the morning." Josephine's eyes lit up.

"It's a woman who runs the newspaper?" Vin nodded. "That's rather impressive."

"She's a rather impressive lady. I do got to warn you, though…she might not be the nicest to you." Josephine's eyes narrowed once again, but not from the glare of the late afternoon sun.

"Well, why not? I happen to think I'm a very likable person. Don't you think so, Mr. Tanner?" Vin chuckled and pushed back the brim of his hand with a finger.

"Maybe not all the time." He teased gently which achieved the reaction he was looking for. Josephine tried to scowl, found it impossible and flashed him that charming smile, the one that screamed innocence and showcased the tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth.

"Well, I'm sure she'll be very lovely."

"I could escort you down there if you like." Josephine thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't think Ezra would find that idea very appealing." Vin nodded, hoping the rejection he felt wasn't mirrored on his face. He tipped his hat and took his place at the chair by the door once again. "What is this woman's name, anyway?" she asked.

"Mary Travis." He was rewarded with another smile before she turned her back and crossed the road, careful to miss the deep tracks left behind in the dirt by hundreds of wagons. Vin continued to watch her navigate through the crowds, light for the time of day but would most certainly become heavier as the hours ticked by, until the road curved and she vanished from view. He hadn't been prepared for some of those feelings to well back up after seeing her again. He wasn't a fool to believe she had actually cared for him; he had been after her brother, after all, and it hardly was a coincidence she had chosen his that night in Amarillo. But it hadn't been too hard to convince him to spend the night and after that, there was no need for convincing. For a week he had shared her bed, well aware Cage Devereaux was riding further and further away, but he didn't care.

She had disappeared on a Sunday morning, leaving him fifty dollars lighter. Josephine had convinced him well enough she enjoyed his company, and maybe she had, but if there was any doubt as to why she come on to him after one of shows, it was erased. Deep down he supposed he really didn't care it was he for whom she pined, but why did it have to be Ezra?

He leaned back him his chair and pulled his hat back down over his eyes. A nap would do him some good.

* * *

"Miss Travis?" Jospehine asked after knocking twice on the door to the office. The Clarion News was dark save an oil lamp burning in the corner. A blonde woman glanced up from the lamp as Josephine entered.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Mary's voice was cool yet professional, but Josephine noticed the once over the woman had given her after she stepped into the light. She didn't seem too impressed with the woman standing before her; in fact, the look in her eye was almost hostile.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Josephine Devereaux." She stepped closer and offered a hand, which Mary took gingerly and almost begrudgingly.

"Of course. I've been hearing about your arrival for weeks now." Josephine smiled.

"Ezra was excited, was he?" Mary gave a tiny laugh, in spite of herself.

"Excited is an understatement."

"Well, that certainly is a pleasure to hear. Sometimes Ezra isn't exactly an open book."

"Is there something I can help you with?" Mary asked, the niceties over. Professional once again.

"Actually yes. You see, I'm not just here on a personal matter, but on a professional one as well, and I was hoping you could run an ad for me highlighting that fact." Mary gave Josephine another hard once over, not exactly hiding the fact she was a little more than bothered by the heavily decorated bodice and ruffled skirt the dancer wore.

"The paper is already put together. I can't put your ad in there." Mary finally said, her tone still cool.

"Well, that's fine." Josephine countered, matching her tone. "What about the rest of the week?" Mary sighed, quietly but still loud enough so Josephine could catch it.

"Well, it depends. Just how big was the ad?" Josephine silently handed over the piece of paper in her hand. Mary turned it over with a critical eye and turned her attention back to Josephine.

"It's ten dollars a week. Paid in advance."

"Well, that's fine. May I stop by in the morning and pay you?"

"I suppose." A smile crept along Josephine's lips.

"Thank you. And It certainly was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Travis." Josephine turned to go, only to be stopped by Mary's voice.

"Just how long do you plan on being here in town, Miss Devereaux?"

"I'm sorry?" Josephine asked, turning her head slightly so Mary was in view.

"I'm asking if you plan on staying here much longer after your shows at the saloon." Mary asked, folding her arms over her chest defensively as Josephine turned her body.

"Well, considering Mr. Standish and I are…involved…I was hoping on staying here as long as he does. Why?" Josephine's tone was no longer light; her voice dropped a pitch as she spoke through a tense jaw.

"This is a good town. We don't need your type here ruining it."

"_Excuse me_?" Josephine stepped forward, the Southern charm all but completely washed away. She stood, hands on hips, her face twisted into a look of disdain.

"I know what happened last time you were here. And I know about your past. We don't need that here and I would appreciate it if you moved along after your shows."

"You don't know me."

"Oh, but I think I do." The two women stared at each other for several beats before Josephine relaxed her stance and replaced the look of disdain with one of amusement.

"I'll be sticking around for a while, _Mary._" Josephine declared. "Sorry if that gives your uppity sensibilities a shake." She straightened her back and forced another smile onto her face. "As I said, it was a pleasure, Miss Travis. And I'll see you in the morning to arrange payment." With one fluid motion, Josephine turned on her heel and was out the door in two steps.


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, Ezra, you're certainly looking a lot more relaxed." Buck said slyly as Ezra approached the table where he was sitting with Josiah, Nathan and J.D. Ezra pushed through the crowd, heavier than usual but as was expected with the calibre of entertainment set to take the stage in just a few minutes.

Ezra flashed a grin as he took a spot next to Josiah, his earlier anger at the former lawman forgotten completely. He helped himself to a drink poured into an empty shot glass—telling him they had been expecting his arrival—and downed the harsh liquid in one swig.

"Did you have a nice afternoon?" Buck continued, raising his eyebrows knowingly. Ezra filled his glass once more and this time took only a sip before meeting the man's gaze.

"It was a nice afternoon, yes." He answered, his grin widening. Buck chuckled and leaned forward to grab the bottle from Ezra's side of the table.

"I'll bet." Buck chuckled again as he filled his own glass with the amber liquid, lighter than normal whiskey, but it wasn't exactly a well-kept secret Digger Dave watered down his alcohol to increase his profits. The only reason most patrons refused to abandon ship was the level of entertainment Dave brought in to the tiny town couldn't be beat. The prettier the girl, the clearer the whiskey, but after a few drinks most everyone was willing to let the action slide.

The noise inside the tavern dimmed as Dave made a show of lighting the stage lights. The piano player struck a few notes to limber his fingers and all focus directed toward the stage.

"Gentlemen!" Dave called out, his voice softer than one would imagine. "It's my great pleasure to introduce to you the lovely and talented Miss Josephine Devereaux." The curtain drew as the music began to play and Josephine emerged, clad in a ruby red satin halter top outfit that shimmered as the light bounced off her curves. The bottom of the ruffled skirt ended just below any area that might have brought immodesty, and a pair of sheer black stockings covered her legs, ending just inches from the end of the dress.

Ezra felt his blood rush to the surface as she danced across the stage, her brunette tendrils bouncing against her shoulders, her voice thick and sultry. His drink forgotten, he stared at her, transfixed. She caught his gaze and winked which made Ezra feel flushed all over again.

She ended big, feigning modesty as the saloon erupted in applause. Josephine took her bows, lit up as one of her admirers approached, a bouquet in hand. Ezra watched as she took the flowers and rewarded the man with a kiss to the cheek. She stood for a few moments, leaning forward as the man spoke to her, flaunting a smile or a laugh every now and then. She said something in return, to which the man tipped his hat, and turned to exit the stage. She caught Ezra's eye again and blew him a kiss before disappearing behind the curtain. Josiah caught the look between the two and snickered.

"Ah, young love."

"You are one lucky man, Ezra." Buck surmised.

"I know."

* * *

Josephine lifted the flowers to her nose and took a deep breath in as she walked down the hall to her dressing room, the heels of her shoes clicking loudly against the wooden floor. The scent of lavender mixed with hyacinth filled her nostrils. The scent suddenly reminded her of Georgia and the summers spent barefoot and carefree. Summers spent running around town with her brother, often falling into trouble and usually breaking free through charm and wordsmithing. She felt a pang of homesickness. It had been years since the carefree days in Savannah and she had lived a thousand lifetimes since then. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go back, but it never hurt to romanticize it sometimes.

She reached her dressing room and opened the door with her free hand. She was aware of how tired she was; there hadn't been much sleep since leaving Georgia. She decided she would change and stay around just long enough to make her new employer happy and then would convince Ezra to escort her home. After her performance this afternoon, it wouldn't be too hard.

She breezed into her room. It didn't register in her mind the door closed much more quickly than it normally did until she heard the deadbolt latch. Alarmed, she twisted around, her heart stopping when she recognized the man leaning against the door.

"Joel." She breathed, her eyes wide and her throat unexpectedly dry.

"What's a matter, darlin'?" Josephine steadied herself as she studied the man in front of her. It had been years since she had last seen Joel Owens, more aptly know in the West as Louisiana Joe and sidekick to Cage Devereaux. He looked older, but she supposed they all did, with just a hint of grey at the temples and the beginnings of lines around the eyes. He wore a thick beard that had grown in a few shades darker than the hair atop his head. He was still long and lean, and still just as handsome as ever.

"You…surprised me." She answered, trying to reflect an ease she certainly did not feel. Joel Owens was not just known as bank robber and outlaw of the West, but also for his quick temper and dangerous attitude. He could be as violent as he could be sweet, something she found out soon after making his acquaintance nearly a decade before.

"You're looking real good, Josie." Owens said after giving her a lingering look. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze but tried hard not to show it.

"Well, you're not looking so bad yourself." She tossed the flowers aside and forced herself to take a few steps toward him. "What are you doing here? And how did you know I was here?" Joel reached out and pulled her toward him. He smelled nice even though the clothes he wore were trail worn and just a little bit dusty.

"Just by accident, actually." He ran a hand down her hip. She shivered at his touch. She wanted to recoil but forced herself to stay relaxed. He didn't expound and she didn't push. She reached up to push a lock of hair away from his forehead before looping an arm around the back of his neck.

"So, you just wanted to see me?"

"Seeing you is an added bonus. I'm here on a bit of business, actually."

"Oh?"

"In case you haven't heard, this town's bank is expected to come into quite a bit of money in two days. It's being used as a stopover on its way to Los Angeles."

"Oh? I hadn't heard." She knew her façade was beginning to crumble. She couldn't hold back the disappointment any longer. With any luck, he would think she was disappointed because he wasn't just here to see her.

"Cage sent me to get the lay of the land. Neither of us was expecting you to be here."

"Well, then you should know by now Vin Tanner is in town as well. And there are six other men who are paid to protect this town. Breaking into the bank isn't exactly going to be a walk in the park. Can't you just rob it out on the trail?" A knock at the door interrupted. The person on the other side attempted to open it, found it was locked and knocked again.

"Josephine?" Her heart leapt at the sound of Ezra's voice. Owens' eyes clouded over and he reached for the pistol at his side. Josephine felt his muscles tighten and she forced him to look at her.

"Don't." she whispered. He let go of his gun and pulled himself away from her.

"I'll explain more. Tonight. You know where." He grabbed her chin and lifted her face up for a kiss. For a moment, she forgot all about Ezra. He pulled away, much too soon for her liking, and made his way toward a window. His attention was diverted momentarily when Ezra knocked again, but quickly focused back on her.

"I'll see you tonight."


End file.
